Stop Feeling So Damned Sorry For Yourself

I went to a party this week where I ran into an acquaintance who has had –since 2010 — relationships with at least three or more men and is engaged to be married in July. My mouth hung open in amazement when she told me.

I just kept thinking, How the hell does she do it? How did she run into all these men who want to date and potentially marry her when I never do? What am I doing wrong? Where is she hanging out?

I think she’s in her 50’s like me. She’s attractive and in good shape. With a powerful blow dryer and some Mary Kay make up, I’m attractive and in good shape; so I thought, what is she doing that I’m not?

Then she said, we met on Match.com. The woman beside her said her sister-in-law met her wonderful husband on Match.com too. My ex-husband met his new wife on Match.com and they’ve been married for more than a year now and I’m still unable to force myself to dip even a baby toe into the dot-com dating pool. Just thinking about it makes me nauseous which seems like a pretty compelling reason not to do it.

So, after my daughter and her boyfriend left the apartment last night, I was feeling pretty stinking lonely. That was compounded by the eight thousand Valentine’s Day ads everywhere that even the legally blind couldn’t miss, shoving romance in my face and reminding me what a pathetic loser I must be to be alone.

The only man I date on Saturday nights now. He has a certain rakish charm doesn’t he?

So, I decided to go on a long walk with the only man I date on Saturday nights these days; my dog Topper. He’s a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, and aside from a serious Napoleon Complex, he’s well adjusted, a great companion, has a flair for fashion, and is always happy to see me.

Street lamps lit our usual route. The echo of just one pair of boots; mine, on the empty sidewalks left, me feeling sorry for myself. I could feel “woe is me” tears starting to well and I had the beginnings of a really meaningful cry underway when I heard loud conversation.

As I got closer, the talk got louder, then it turned to yelling. It was a man and a woman, walking their dog and shouting at each other. She was angry with him because he was walking ahead of her and he was disgusted with her. They sniped back and forth across the street from me. I listened to her tell him he was being a selfish jerk and watched him walk away from her even faster, muttering something under his breath.

Hearing it took me back to some pretty unhappy years and made me shiver. Then I had to laugh because the timing was flawless. Just as I was about to go into full blown poor me mode, the universe backhanded me.

I imagined Mother nature hissing, “You idiot, you could be with someone you don’t even respect, like her. Look at them, they’re a couple, do they look happy? Now stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself. You did what you had to do, you’re alone now but at least you’re not miserable, so get over it.”

Man, Mother Nature can be kind of a bitch. But, she was right and right now, I’m not sad, I’m grateful.

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14 Comments

[…] I just consulted my Dictionary of the Saints and there is no Patron Saint of Gratitude listed. Maybe she or he is going incognito, but there is definitely a presence out there because any time I start having one of my self-indulgent, poor-me moments, I am busted by the Patron Saint of Gratitude. I think I’ll call her St. Tude. This happens about once every 1.5 years, like the day I was on my way to the therapist in 2015, and on Valentine’s Day 2014. […]

lafriday

February 18, 2014 at 11:06 pm

Fran, the universe is keeping you free from such distractions whilst you become a “lady of letters.” I agree with Sugano: there are many ways to expand your community and allow the right man to appear organically. In the meantime, the masses appreciate your brilliance, humor, and delicious recipes. KEEP WRITING (and I so miss being at your table for great food, conversation, and laughter).

Jerry Kitchel

February 10, 2014 at 8:55 am

Cain’t figure why the guys ain’t lining up at your door, Fran! You’re a jewel. Maybe it’s a special time in your life to enjoy and savor the peace that comes from being single. You sure don’t want to rush into anything. Could this be a season to simply love, embrace and pamper yourself?

My dear Russian Mother–who never minced words–always told my sisters, “If you think you’re miserable now being single, you haven’t experienced hell until you’ve been involved in a bad relationship.” Of the Kurbatoff family of six siblings, two had successful marriages, three had multiple divorces, and one sister was born mentally handicapped (which may have been a blessing in disguise). I don’t know how it happened, but Mom and Pop stayed married for 67 years, until his death five years ago. They were complete opposites that somehow made it. Meanwhile, savor each day and keep staying adorable. Jerry

donraymedia

Don’t get me started with the dating site thing. I did it for a year & a half as an experiment, so I could sincerely write a paper on ‘The Loney Americans,’ and what a nightmare it was. If you’d like me to elaborate I will do so later but in the mean time, Go someplace where you can share a commonality, Church, temple, tennis courts, biking club, chess club, whatever you have an interest in and you will find other people to share stuff and meet the right people.